


What Happens in Lorien Stays in Lorien

by LittleMissCactus



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: And Gimli isn't much better, Awkwardness, Fluff, Horrible butchering of Sindarin, Legolas is a disaster gay, M/M, Miscommunication, What really happened on those long walks together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22820020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissCactus/pseuds/LittleMissCactus
Summary: In which Legolas and Gimli are both hopelessly awkward around each other and can't talk like normal people. Spoiler: it's because they're gay.
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 12
Kudos: 208





	What Happens in Lorien Stays in Lorien

“Master Elf, you have not yet told me why it is that you have brought me here.” Gimli would have likely kicked at a stone on the ground were it not for his fear of drawing attention to himself. However welcoming the Lady of Lorien may have been to him, he was still a Dwarf in a forest of Elves. He knew better than to assume himself safe.

Legolas's eyes glittered as he laughed, the sound ringing easily through the still air. Gimli could not help but notice the difference in Legolas's air from that in Khazad-dûm. “And what if there is no reason? Perhaps I have simply never had the opportunity to have civil conversation with a Dwarf.”

“I do believe that you have had plenty of opportunities. We have been travelling together for some weeks now.” Gimli's tone was flat and mocking, but his eyes were smiling. “What makes this moment any different?”

Legolas just laughed again and offered no response as they walked deeper into the forest. They were quite far from any of the Elven homes that dotted the landscape and Gimli could not hide his surprise. Did Legolas not wish to see his kin as much as possible before they had to move on? They would see many forests on the long road ahead of them.

Legolas, clearly noticing the change in Gimli's face, smiled widely and was nearer to skipping than walking. “My friend, surely you do not think me blind. I know that you are uncomfortable being in the constant presence of Elves. While you need not fear them, I can understand your aversion to them.”

“So you have brought me here to take me away from your kin?” Gimli could not help but raise a brow in suspicion. “Have you perhaps forgotten that you are also an Elf? Or do you plan to leave me alone by this tree?”

“I am not of the Galadhrim,” Legolas pointed out with a smile, “And it is not as though the Elves of Mirkwood have the most pristine reputation among our kin in other lands.”

“You do not have the most pristine reputation among the Dwarves, either,” Gimli said with a trace of bitterness, “Least of all the Dwarves of Erebor. I have not forgotten that it is your father who had my father imprisoned.”

“Nor have we forgotten that he trespassed in our woods,” Legolas parried, “But we are not in Mirkwood now. We are in Lorien, and we are meant to be companions. Do you see blame in wanting to make peace with you?”

Gimli snorted. “Are all Elves as diplomatic as this?”

“When we feel that it is worth the effort.” Legolas's smile was too coy for Gimli's liking.

“And what, pray tell, would you have to gain from the respect of a Dwarf of Erebor?”

“Now, Gimli, have I not only just told you?”

“You have not told me everything,” Gimli grumbled, his eyes flickering in annoyance when Legolas laughed _again_. Never again would he allow it to cross his lips that Elves did not have ears for humour.

“And must I tell you all of my secrets already? I did not know that Dwarves made friendships so quickly.”

“Nor did I know that Elves are quite so secretive.”

Legolas turned to look at Gimli, and for the first time, Gimli noticed the slight dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Now, Gimli. We both know that that is a lie.”

This continued nearly every night that they were in Lorien, and before long, Gimli began to feel a bit more at ease with the Elf prince, no matter how much he may have wished not to. Their conversations were not as grave and heartfelt as the ones he had seen Legolas share with Aragorn, but rather, they were filled with laughter and teasing. It felt comfortable, as much as Gimli was appalled at the thought of feeling “comfortable” with an Elf.

“Come, now, my dear Gimli,” Legolas laughed, perched effortlessly on the raised root of a willow tree, “You cannot deny that dark caves are a far more rational thing to fear than trees. Surely Dwarves, more than any other race, should know of the dangers of digging underground.”

“Nonsense. Evil can lurk in any place, whether above or below ground. But at least stone stays where you put it, whereas trees and vines will grow and move wherever they please. And you have said yourself that trees in particular have thoughts and memories.”

“I have thoughts and memories as well. Are you uncomfortable in my presence?”

The two seemed to realize at the same time the implications of what had been said. The obvious answer should have been “yes”. There is no reason that a Dwarf should feel comfortable in the presence of an Elf. And yet, Gimli couldn't deny that he felt more at ease sitting next to Legolas than he had in years. Still, he could not bring himself to answer. His pride was still too strong.

Legolas bowed his head, his eyes averted from Gimli's face. “Forgive me. I have overstepped.”

Gimli opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Eventually, he managed to choke out an eloquent, “No. I mean – not that I do not forgive you. I mean that you did not overstep and that there is nothing to forgive and – oh, never mind.”

A small smile crossed Legolas's face, but his eyes were sad. “Do not fret, son of Glóin. I am not hurt. It is perfectly natural for a Dwarf to feel ill at ease with an Elf. I am flattered that you are so much as humouring me in these night walks.”

“Legolas, it is not-” Gimli stopped himself and drew in a slow breath. “Perhaps we should both get some sleep. We are both tired. We can continue this conversation tomorrow.”

Legolas looked away, a frown tugging at his lips. “Yes... yes, perhaps that would be best.”

When Gimli went to approach Legolas the next day, though, he found Legolas distant and quiet. The cocky smirk that Gimli had grown accustomed to was gone, and he occasionally exchanged a few gloomy-sounding words with Aragorn in Elvish, who seemed mildly irritated by how melodramatic their companion was being.

Frodo, who only spoke the tiniest bit of Elvish, seemed to understand the occasional phrase here and there, but when Gimli tried to ask him about what they were saying, he simply blushed and refused to answer.

Gimli did not have another opportunity to talk to Legolas about what had happened until the night before they were to leave Lothlorien. After they ate, Gimli placed a hand on Legolas's arm, speaking as gently as a Dwarf is able.

“Would you take me on one more walk, my friend?”

Legolas looked surprised, and were he not so worried for his friend, Gimli would have been pleased that he had caught an Elf off-guard.

“I suppose so,” Legolas agreed, his face turning slightly red at the mention of their walks in front of so many others. Gimli could not help but wonder why. Was it really so unusual to go on walks with a friend? When Gimli looked around, though, he noticed that Aragorn had the oddest smile on his face, while Frodo just looked thoroughly embarrassed, exactly the same as when Gimli had asked about Legolas's conversations with Aragorn.

Legolas's smile was back to usual when they had reached some distance from the group, though, and his eyes laughed just as much as ever when Gimli commented on it.

“Truthfully, my dear Gimli, I had been worried that you would not want us to go on our walks anymore. But I am happier than words can tell to hear otherwise.”

“Foolish Elf. Why would you think that I would want to stop our walks together?”

“Well, I...” Legolas blew out a small puff of air, and for a moment, he looked more like a petulant child than a fearsome Elvish warrior. “I thought that I had offended you. That I had... that I had scared you off.”

“Scared me off? By the Valar, why would you think such a thing?” Gimli could not prevent a trace of anger from seeping into his tone, but he regretted it when Legolas's eyes darted away.

“Because I got too comfortable. I overstepped a line.”

“And what line would that be? Offering your friendship to me?” Gimli took Legolas's hand in his. “Legolas. I will not deny that I distrusted you when we first met.”

“I never would have guessed.”

“Hush. Let me finish.” Gimli bit down on his lip to keep his temper in check until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. “I would be honoured to accept your friendship, Master Elf.”

For a moment, Legolas's face was unreadable, and Gimli feared that he had said something to offend him. Eventually, he took a step towards Gimli and placed a hand on his heart, then bowed a little. Gimli recognized the gesture from having seen other Elves do it, but he could not seem to remember the significance. Still, it felt warm, somehow.

“Dear Gimli...” Legolas's tone was softer than Gimli had ever heard it before. Before either of them really knew what was happening, their foreheads were pressed flush against each other and their lips were inches apart. Gimli could feel the warmth of Legolas's breath rustling his beard.

Gimli's breath caught in his throat and he found himself unable to decide whether he wished more to close his eyes and enjoy the intimacy of the moment or continue to gaze ahead and watch Legolas's eyes twinkle with a soft, comfortable mirth.

“ _Bunnanunê..._ ” The word faltered slightly as it left Gimli's lips. He knew that Legolas would not understand it, but the intimacy of the term left him flustered nonetheless.

Legolas seemed to catch onto the general meaning of the word, though, and his pale cheeks flushed, almost looking violet in the moonlight. He ran a hand through Gimli's course hair, only to laugh when his fingers were caught on a tangle. “ _Chin gelair chîn orthernir guren, adar dithen,_ ” he breathed as he gingerly began to untangle the knot.

Gimli felt his chest grow tight as he listened to each delicate word float from the Elf's mouth. Oh, why had he ever hated such a beautiful tongue? Unable to resist any longer, Gimli closed the gap between them, feeling warmth bloom all throughout his body as his lips met Legolas's. Gimli could not decide if he was more irritated or relieved that Legolas did not appear surprised by the kiss, instead just smiling into it and settling his gaunt hands on Gimli's broad shoulders.

“The others are likely asleep now,” Legolas whispered, his eyes twinkling with the childish playfulness that Gimli was ashamed to have once despised, “We can stay out for as long as we wish now without being missed...”


End file.
